


gave thee clothing of delight

by aerialbots



Series: tyger tyger [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Family, Gen, Pre-War, Slice of Life, Sparklings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialbots/pseuds/aerialbots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a universally acknowledged fact that Nightstalker makes all of the terrible choices; what is not so commonly mentioned is that it's usually Atlas who has to pay for it later. (Alternatively: bitty hunter stalks his prey, or, Prowl is the cutest of sparklings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	gave thee clothing of delight

"He's at it again", Nightstalker murmured, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Atlas flicked a doorwing in a way that could’ve been called unconscious rather than affirmative, were it not for the obvious amusement that flowed into his bondmates from his energy field, even as he hid behind his stack of datapads.

"I think it might be your fault, brightspark", Diction said, leaning slightly towards their larger mate and grinning as he rested his chin on top of his own hand. "Our sparklings definitely don't do that."

"Oh, of course, blame the Seeker", Nightstalker sighed, but he was having such a hard time hiding his laughter that his voice went staticky on the last words.

He had been the one to come up with the brilliant idea of visiting the zoo last cycle, after all.

 _How close?_ , asked Atlas, obviously steeling himself for some terrible fate.

Both of his mates grinned. _Oh, close enough._

 _You will pay_ , Atlas informed them flatly, and less than a second later a gleeful roar pierced the air. A tiny flash of white and red launched itself like a bollid towards him, and he barely managed to arrange his wings to avoid getting crippled before his diminutive attacker latched his arms around his neck.

"I'm hit, I'm hit!", Atlas moaned dramatically, letting himself fall forward as if terribly injured. He dropped his face onto a datapad -- carefully enough not to crack the screen, of course -- and threw his arm as if helplessly reaching for his bondmates, who were all but shaking with silent laughter, but still attempting to play their part. "My beloved sparks, please go on without me. I shall wait for you on the Matrix, but you must stay and look after our child..."

Diction was the first one to recover, and nodded empathically with dim optics that weren't so much pained as they were full of mirth. "Of course. The bitlet is the most important thing..."

"Even though he always eats all the purple energon jellies", Nightstalk muttered, earning himself a subtle poke from Atlas' foot under the table and forcing Diction to reboot his vocaliser, lest it glitched from trying to contain his snickering.

"Nevertheless", Diction continued, the very image of tragedy. "We will all miss you dearly."

"Thank you. I will... miss... y-you... t--" Atlas' voice fell into static, and his optics dimmed slowly until he was intert on the dining room table. Nightstalk let out a low, mournful keen, both he and Diction reaching out to hold each other close, lamenting their bondmate’s untimely demise.

Sharp optics crowned by a tiny red chevron popped up from behind Atlas’ neck, little doorwings tilting back as Prowl stared curiously at his creator, his carers still making pitiful sounds on the background.

"Cree", he said, bouncing a single time atop Atlas' shoulders.

"Yes?", asked the 'defunct', optics still offline and lips moving very quietly.

"I stalk prey", he said proudly.

"Correct", murmured his victim, his smile imperceptible.

"Get carers?", the little one inquired.

"Thought you'd never ask."

The crying stopped, and Diction grinned. "Oh dear."

"I say we run", Nightstalker commented, seeing the mischievous glint in Atlas' optics.

”More fun that way", Prowl agreed, happily oblivious. Diction burst out laughing, and both fliers grabbed each other's hands, fleeing out of the room with Prowl and Atlas gleefully chasing after them.


End file.
